


Les Mechanisms

by spacepirate



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Gen, but mechs, dr carmilla is here for a tiny bit, each mech is a certain character, so like. it's gonna be fun, some les mis characters are just octokittens, thank you stowaway server, this is a les mis retelling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-09-01
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 3,845
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22748188
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacepirate/pseuds/spacepirate
Summary: The Mechanisms take their decade-long games of hide-and-seek to a little planet called New Patria, and history repeats itself in a familiar way.
Comments: 35
Kudos: 68





	1. The History of the Game

When you have eternity to burn, you get creative with ways to spend your time. And the space pirate crew of the Aurora known as the Mechanisms excelled at creating these games.

They had a particular favorite past-time which they called the hide-and-seek game. It was a good way to burn a decade or so, and was the more… harmless of their ways to kill time. Compared to depopulating planets or fighting in wars, it had the potential to only be fatal to the Mechanisms themselves, and that was much less of a risk since they wouldn’t stay dead for long.

Ivy kept fastidious records of their previous games, and enjoyed running data analysis. She kept a leaderboard of sorts posted in the bridge. Ashes held the record for least amount of deaths during the game, while Drumbot Brian had died the most- he chalked this up to being made of metal and therefore, easily trackable. Unsurprisingly Jonny had the highest kill count, but that didn’t mean he’d killed the others the most. Almost the opposite- immortal and trigger-happy was quite the combination for this particular game.

There were ground rules to the game, not that rules meant much to most of them. They had a few months to find a place to live, settle into life on this new world. And then they would systematically hunt the others down. When they found another, they could choose to kill them or let them join up. Most of the time they chose death- it’s more fun that way. If they died, there was a grace period so they could start over again, and this would continue until a decade had passed or until they’d gotten sick of it. Sometimes they just wouldn’t quit- they’d spent a century in the City in such a way, and had a great time doing it.

“I’m bored,” Jonny said, slamming his glass down on the table. “It’s been a while since we had a game of hide-and-seek. What’s nearby?”

Ivy looked up, irritated by the sudden outburst. “New Patria is the closest to where we are. It’s mostly human, a brutal penal system, some social unrest and gang drama. Not the most pleasant place.”

“What’re you on about, it sounds perfect,” Ashes interjected as they sat at the table. “I’m down for a game.”

Nastya at the helm frowned a bit- she wasn’t a huge fan of the game, but had been the last standing on a few occasions. She said something to the ship, and then looked back to the others. “Aurora is not sure how she feels about being left alone so long.”

“The ship will be fine, we’ll bring her down somewhere safe. And you can stay with the ship if you want too, Nastya,” Ivy said.

“I would prefer to stay with her, _da_ ,” Nastya said.

Jonny gave a derisive snort. “We’ll be free of the ship sex for a decade.”

Nastya turned a new shade of red. “And I will be free of you, Jonny.”

“That’s fair,” Jonny shrugged. “Brian, take us down to New Patria. I think it’s time for a little fun.


	2. Concerning the Contents of Bags

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Banter and the contents of each bag the Mechanisms carry with them out into New Patria.

When they landed on the surface of New Patria the next day, bringing the Aurora down in a wooded area away from any cities, spirits were high. There was a sort of tense excitement in the air on the ship as the crew readied bags and other equipment for the long game ahead.

The Drumbot himself had high hopes for this round. Androids weren’t uncommon in New Patria, according to Ivy, which means his chances of blending in this time were much better. Maybe he’d live to see the end of the first year this time.

After a few hours, everyone was packed. They stood outside the ship, ready to part ways, as Nastya stood next to the Aurora with a hand on the hull.

“So do you think it will take a decade this time before someone kills Jonny?” she asked. “I hope it is much sooner.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Jonny said. “I think I’m gonna get into law enforcement this time ‘round, to give you a little hint. I can get away with a lot of shit that way.”

Ashes laughed and gave him a little shove. “How can that fit so well, but also be completely wrong?”

“No, I agree with Ashes,” Nastya interjected. “I cannot see you as a lawman. You are not… lawful in any sense of the word.”

Jonny seemed to deflate for a moment, before giving in. “Just see what you think in ten years’ time. Then you’ll know I was right. Be the best goddamn cop you’ve ever seen.”

“Sure,” Ashes said, voice thick with disbelief.

The Drumbot hefted his bag over his shoulder and started walking away, purposefully. The others watched him, a little confused.

“Bye?” Tim called after. The Drumbot didn’t seem to acknowledge him. “Someone’s due for a cleaning, it seems.”

“Bit late now,” Raphaella said. “He’s gone, although we could kidnap-”

“No, let him rust, I guess,” Tim said. He waved a hand dismissively. “When I hunt him down in a few months I’ll disassemble him before he comes back.”

Jonny checked his pack again, considering the contents. Of course, it was mostly just ammunition, with some various sundries- fake ID, switchblade, a hat- and a handful of the gold coins left lying around on the Aurora. He’d stolen them from Ashes, but if they’d noticed, they hadn’t said anything yet.

Raphaella struggled slightly with her pack of primarily lab equipment- if the others thought she’d leave her tools on the ship, they were crazy. A new planet meant more chances to do some science, and this particular new planet didn’t have an Internal Review Board to deal with, which left her with more time for experiments. It was heavy because she’d insisted on taking her favorite microscope- god knows what Nastya would’ve used it for while she was gone- as well as most of her field notebooks. Whatever came her way in terms of science, she would be prepared.

Ashes had a hip flask with what the group would safely assume to be kerosene, and their bag jingled with golden coins. They also had a folder full of pristine false identity documents, which would set them up for success in whatever they decided to do during the game. They figured they might try their hand at running a business this time ‘round.

Ivy mostly had books. That was all she really needed. She’d worry about the rest later.

Gunpowder Tim was a simple man. His time in the infantry had taught him all he really needed was socks, a weapon, and a blanket, but now he added the caveat of the solution that maintained his eyes while he slept. He left his goggles hung around his neck, figuring he would test the waters with his mechanical eyes first, gauge the reaction of the people of New Patria to his particular brand of cybernetics.

With bags held firmly and eyes excited, they gave parting hugs to each other, making threats (or promises?) of quick deaths once the grace period was over.

But what of the Drumbot, who’d left so early? He left the Aurora with his morality core set to “Means Justifies Ends”, and had only taken a few items with him as he went west. He brought his drumsticks, of course, some oil in case he got rusty again, and a second pair of shoes. Noticeably not among the things he packed, though, were papers establishing his identity. The morality core’s setting had affected that decision- false papers were Wrong, and therefore using them would also be Morally Wrong. So, effectively nameless, he continued westward towards the next decade.

The rest finished their goodbyes, and parted.

And the game began.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took really long for some reason, idk. Again thanks to the mechscord for enabling this madness and all that!


	3. First Days

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Various members of the Mechanisms begin their set up for the next decade.

When they separated that morning, the first thing Ashes did was get a few miles out. They found an abandoned building, dusty and dilapidated but not beyond repair. It had a second story, and a nice cellar. After emptying out the debris on the inside and setting it alight, they headed into the next town over.

There was a store that they came across. With the gold they’d packed they purchased enough to stock a bar, and a few beds. The second story had clearly been some sort of inn, and Ashes dragged the beds upstairs. For a moment, all they could see was the orphanhouse Smooth Mickey had adopted them from, all those years ago. They felt their chest seize, and return to normalcy with the steady pumping of their mechanical lungs.

Ashes went back downstairs and poured themself a drink. Not that it affected them much, but the taste was familiar and comforting. When they finished, they struck a match and burned the word “INN” into the door of the building.

There’d be more work to do tomorrow. For the first day, this was a good start.

-

Doctor Baron Marius von Raum thought maybe he would learn something. The bar was pretty low- it’s not that he earned his doctorate as much as stole it- but perhaps he would put in work towards getting it fair and square. In his defense, Ivy had said that Noveau Paris had excellent universities, and now he couldn’t get the idea out of his head.

As he trudged east, he heard a dull thunk on the ground next to him. He glanced down. There, sitting on the grass, was his arm. It somehow had gotten loose, and Raphaella was the only one who knew how to get it back on without issue.

“That is not good,” he said as he picked it up. “Not good at all.” He tucked it away into his satchel, the hand hanging limply out of it. 

That settled it, then. He’d have to find Raphaella before the grace period ended.

-

Tim went into this round looking for a fight. Perhaps the sight of New Patria’s brilliant moon made him sentimental. He wasn’t sure where to start, though. Schools were breeding grounds for revolutionary ideas, he knew from experience, but he wasn’t sure where to start with that. He attached the bayonet to his rifle and figured he would just look for the young people in towns as he was passing through.  
Something in his bag moved. He threw it to the ground and nudged it open with the tip of his bayonet.

A small, furry black face peered back at him, eight legs writhing inside the bag.

Tim set down the bayonet. “It’s just an octokitten,” he told himself, before scooping up the little beast. “Ah, this is one of the Toy Soldier’s, it’s got one of those little collars.” He inspected the collar around the octokitten’s neck, finding the name “Gavroche” written on the inside of the tag in a very child-like handwriting.

“Hm. Gavroche it is then! You’ll be with me for the next few years,” he said with a grin. He let the octokitten perch on his shoulder before picking up his bag and his weapon and continuing his aimless wandering.

-

The Drumbot stumbled across a town. It looked dreary, the factory that defined its horizon clogging the sky with smog and blotting out the sun. He grimaced at that- couldn’t people respect the beautiful planet they had? He shouldered his pack, looking at the sign that marked the city’s border- Faverolles.

He had hardly made it ten steps past the sign when he heard a voice call out to him, gruff and commanding.

“You! Android! Let me see your papers,” the policeman said. Brian froze in his tracks, turning to face the man.

“I have no papers,” Brian said. “...Should I have papers?”

The officer scowled at him. “Obviously. Every mechanical lifeform on New Patria has to be licensed, after we had some problems with rogue automata a couple decades back.” He extended out his hand. “You’re sure you don’t have any papers?”

“I’m Brian,” the Drumbot said, shaking the man’s hand. The officer recoiled. “Drumbot Brian, to be precise.”

“I’m going to have to place you under arrest, Mr Brian,” the officer said as he twisted free of Brian’s metal grasp. He put Brian into handcuffs, surprised by the total lack of objection, and led him away towards the jail.

Brian sat contentedly down on the bench in the jail. _No reason to worry yet,_ he told himself, _it’s only the first day. There’s plenty of time._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> like a leviathan rising from the deep-  
> just kidding i'm just back with Whatever The Fuck This Is  
> yes chapters will probably continue to be this short  
> i hope u have a nice day!


	4. The End of Year One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The prologue of this adventure comes to an end, and the real adventure is foreshadowed.

Jonny had been following this particular police academy student all day. He was just the right height and frame.

“Hey, kid,” he shouted. “Got a light?”

The student turned around, looking confused. He was a lot older than Jonny had initially thought. “You have a lot of nerve calling me ‘kid’, sir.” He handed Jonny a lighter.

Jonny lit a cigarette and handed it back to him. “Everyone’s a kid to me at this point. Kid.”

“You’re strange. You’re not from around here, are you? That accent is quite… rural,” the student said.

“I don’t like you,” Jonny muttered between puffs. “Won’t be a problem much longer, though.”

There was a brief moment of silence. “Was that a threat?”

“Yes,” Jonny said. The student didn’t have time to react as Jonny pulled his pistol and fired two shots directly into the kid’s chest. He lowered the kid to the ground, doing his best to ignore the choking noises he was making.

The crushing feeling in his chest was overwhelming. Suddenly he was no longer huddled in the dirt alleyway, but saw instead the wood floor of his home on New Texas. It wasn’t the body of a student he was kneeling next to, but that of his father.

“It’ll be over soon,” he whispered, not sure which he was talking to. “Don’t try to fight it, it’ll only make it worse. I’m sorry.”

Jonny couldn’t be sure how long he stayed like that, his realities overlapping. But when he came out of it, the kid was dead. He stole the uniform, put it on, and tried not to think about it. He spared a brief glance for the name tag on the jacket. “Javert? ‘Fuck kinda name is that?”

-

Meanwhile, Raphaella had found her niche as a researcher. There was a small, private lab near the coast, and within hours of her arrival there, found a new home. However tough the leader of the team, Madame Victurnien, seemed to be, Raphaella could be just as cruel. Obviously the crew were confused and impressed in turn by her knowledge, let alone her wings, but Raphaella quickly brushed aside any questions they might have had. She couldn’t convince them she was from New Patria, of course, since her accent, dress, and overall scope of knowledge was beyond anything they would have expected. But with enough distractions she was delayed the inevitable day that they would find out who, and what, she really was. 

A few days later, Ivy found her way into the same laboratory, an octokitten named Cosette perched on her shoulder.

“Oh! Raphaella! Ha,” Ivy said nervously. She started backing towards the door she had come in from. “What a wild coincidence! There was only a three-percent chance-”

Raphaella laughed, planting a hand next to Ivy’s head against the wall. “I’m not going to kill you, Ms Alexandria,” she purred. “That really would be a waste. They’re doing excellent research here, and I think your expertise would really be appreciated.”

Ivy glanced away from Raphaella’s eyes. “Well! I supposed we should get started, then.” She felt her face turn even redder as Raphaella gave her a little kiss on the forehead. “Yes, yes, lots of studying to do.”

-

And so the first year passed. With everyone content in their situations- even Brian, sitting alone in the prison galley- there were no deaths.

But that’s just among the Mechanisms. The people of New Patria were growing enraged with their tyrannical monarch, sitting lazily on his throne while his people suffered. There were small riots quickly squashed by His Majesty’s national guard. For awhile, there was unintentional peace, as those who dissented were too afraid to speak out. However, in a few years and with a few particular… insurgent leaders of an immortal nature, that was going to change.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i said little a raphivy rights, as a treat.  
> anyways gamers this chapter is a little short, i've accepted that this won't be super long because i'm not victor fuckin' hugo lmao.  
> have fun, stay safe, i'll see you next update! as always you can find me on @okiedokiecrisco on twt for whatever reason.


	5. Sport and the Doctor of Digne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Brian finds not one, but two familiar faces after he is released from prison.

On the third day of the new year, as the sun rose over New Patria, Drumbot Brian stumbled out into the light for the first time in nearly twelve months.

Today, he would be released.

The guard that was with him was silent as they walked across the courtyard to the office where the prisoner’s records were kept. By now, Brian had a reputation of being completely harmless, and nobody seemed to be too concerned about him running off. The guard banged his nightstick on the door of the office, and it creaked open.

The chair was faced away from the door, and Brian could see two boots kicked up on the windowsill. The sight gave him a sense of deja vu, but he couldn’t quite place why. His cerebral circuits had been on the fritz in the last few weeks. This was probably just another malfunction.

The guard picked up the file on the desk, and handed it to Brian. “Your papers, for travel. You’re an autonomous android but your record will still show that we don’t quite understand where you came from, and people’s treatment of you will probably reflect that.” He grabbed a rucksack from next to the desk, and handed that to him as well. “Your belongings.”

Brian nodded his thanks. “Is there anything else for me to do before I can leave?”

“Well I suppose you’ll have to talk to the Inspector,” the guard said, waving a hand at the chair. “Sir? Inspector Javert?”

There was a sound of a familiar cackling laugh.

The chair spun around, and Brian felt his heart rate spike as he got a good look at this ‘Inspector Javert’.

While his hair had grown longer and his clothing had changed, the shit-eating grin was a constant feature of Jonny d’Ville’s face. 

“So this is where you went off to hide, Brian?” Jonny said, leaning onto his desk. “It was a fucking clever idea, I’ll give you that. Never would’ve thought to look for you in a prison.”

“Nor I you in the guise of an officer,” the Drumbot replied smoothly. He saw the look of confusion on the guard’s face. “No need to worry, your Inspector Javert is an old friend of mine.”

This didn’t seem to alleviate any of the uncertainty.

“Anyways, Brian, I’ll tell you what. I’m feeling pretty benevolent today. Why don’t you just run along this time? I think it’s too early for me to send you back to Nastya,” Jonny said. He nodded towards the papers in Brian’s hands. “You’re set to go now.”

The Drumbot frowned. What exactly was Jonny’s gambit here? Jonny could’ve killed him on the spot… but he chose not to. “In the interest of sport?” he asked, standing a little taller.

Jonny stood. “In the interest of sport. Don’t worry, I’ll find you and shoot that metal brain wiiiiide open eventually. Just not today.”

“Sir! This is highly inappropriate!” the guard said, sounding even more concerned.

“Oh, just can it. This is between me and our brass friend here.”

The guard swallowed and didn’t say anything else.

“Well, Brian? What do you say?” Jonny asked. He stuck his hand out over the desk to Brian, who stared at it, dumbstruck.

Eventually he shook Jonny’s hand. “Very well, I suppose. We’ll see each other again someday, Inspector Javert.”

He gathered his papers and his bag, and set out of the office, confused and optimistic.

\--

It took much longer than he would’ve hoped to find a place to stay and work. But as that guard had forewarned, his uncertain origins made it difficult. He tried for week after week, until eventually at his wit’s end, he knocked on the only door he hadn’t yet in the small town of Digne where he’d ended up. For a few days, he had listened to rumors of its inhabitant- that she never turned away a visitor, though they seldom saw any of her company leave, that she was only seen at night, and even then rarely, and that she was definitely not from New Patria. Despite all of this, she was the town’s doctor, and her odd mannerisms just seemed to endear her to the community even more.

The sound that Brian’s metal fist made on the steel door was loud, and he felt the eyes of a few passersby turn to him. He knocked again.

The door opened. The Drumbot took a few shaky steps away from the door, before falling onto his backside, staring up in terror.

The Doctor of Digne was none other than Doctor Carmilla.

\--

“Well this certainly is a surprise,” Doctor Carmilla said as she poured tea into a fine porcelain cup and slid it to Brian. “After Jonny pushed me out of the airlock I never thought I would see any of you fuckers again.”

Brian took the teacup but didn’t drink. “He still says you fell out, you know.”

“So he is still full of shit,” Carmilla snorted. She pulled a flask from her jacket and poured some into her own cup of coffee. “Why are you here? And are the others?”

“It’s… complicated. And yes, they are all on New Patria, but I don’t know where they are. Well, except for Jonny. I just met up with him,” Brian shuddered at the memory. As innocuous as that interaction had been in the moment, it had kept Brian awake at night. Any time he wasn’t moving away from the prison galley was time Jonny would be using to find him again.

Doctor Carmilla didn’t seem to have anything to add. “Well. You are free to spend the night here. I do not mind housing one of my old crea- my old friends. There is a room across from mine you can sleep in.”

“Thank you,” he said. He pushed away the tea. “I will see you in the morning, then.” He got up and walked to the room she’d indicated, and laid on the bed, staring at the ceiling.

\--

In the middle of the night he awoke in what would’ve been a cold sweat, if he could sweat. He stood up, joints creaking slightly. 

Above the fireplace in the main room there were two silver candlesticks. They looked ancient, and Brian thought he vaguely recognized them from when the Doctor travelled with them on the Aurora. Looking around, he stepped up to them and picked them both up. _These were Nastya’s! They were her family’s!_ He realized as he inspected them closer and found the Cyberian crest on the bottoms of them. _I have to give these back when the game is over._

He trudged back to his room, and slipped them into his bag. He’d had enough rest. It was time to go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so yeah anyways long time no see, i'm back on this bullshit. hope yall will still have me and enjoy this content even if it's been. four months.
> 
> as for moving forward, like i've said before this is a side project, and i kind of just work on it when i'm able. there will continue to Not Be Consistent Updates and i apologize for that.
> 
> still on twitter @just_nott, feel free to hmu there as well. stay safe, have fun, et cetera, see you next time!


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